


A Very Murray Christmas: The Next Year

by thatsoccercoach



Series: A Very Murray Christmas [2]
Category: Outlander, Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Christmas, Christmas joy, Family, Fluff, a very murray christmas, holiday fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:13:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21943441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsoccercoach/pseuds/thatsoccercoach
Summary: Jenny Murray Fraser compares Christmas last year with the present year. And Murtagh pays a visit.
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser, Jenny Fraser/Ian Murray
Series: A Very Murray Christmas [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1579936
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	A Very Murray Christmas: The Next Year

**Author's Note:**

> In the Lallybroch Library's holiday prompt exchange I claimed a prompt about Murtagh being a grumpy Santa. The easy route would have been to write in the Fluffy Fraser universe but I thought this lesser known fic deserved a bit more attention.
> 
> If you haven't read A Very Murray Christmas (find it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17109989/chapters/40238714) I HIGHLY recommend you go and do that before reading this.

What changes a single year could make. Twelve months could change _everything._

Last Christmas they had been awaiting the arrival of their first daughter. Jenny had _always_ known, even since childhood, that she and Ian would have a bonny brood of Murrays. Katherine had been the addition she and Ian were eagerly awaiting last year. 

They’d been celebrating the holiday season, looking at things through the eyes of wee Jamie. He was amazed by every bauble, in awe of everything with glitter or bows. 

But there had been an underlying sorrow as well. There was nothing like a holiday to remind you of loved ones departed and Jenny Fraser Murray had spent a completely unreasonable (and altogether unavoidable) amount of time dwelling on those sorrowful memories and thoughts.

She wished her mother could have been there. She could imagine her mam putting out decorations, snuggling wee Jamie and feeding him sweets, being there for the birth of Katherine.

She remembered _before_. Before Ian had gone away to the combat zone that took from him not only his leg, but so often his peace of mind as well. 

She recalled all the childhood memories with her brother, knowing that the making of those memories with Jamie, the making of _any_ memory with Jamie, had ceased with his disappearance in Afghanistan.

But that had been one year ago and everything had changed.

“What time will he be here?” Jamie asked her from a spot on the floor. He was fishing out a bedraggled ribbon that had been on a gift from Kat’s mouth. “Och,” he chided, glaring at the baby. “Ye dinna put tha’ in yer mouth, lass.” He scooped her up and settled her on his legs so she was standing in his lap, her fingers reaching for his hair.

“He said ‘round four or so. He’s no’ ever been one for promptness,” she shrugged.

Ian laughed at that but quickly stifled the sound. Murtagh marched to the beat of his own drum. If he said he’d come, he’d come. It would be on his own timeline though. 

“ _Who_ will be here?” wee Jamie’s head whipped up from looking at the book his Auntie Claire was reading to him. “Is Grandda coming?”

“Grandda will be here this evening, too. He’ll come just before church _a chuisle._ ”

“But someone else then? Is it Murtagh and Suzette?” He wiggled about in excitement, causing a grimace of discomfort from Claire, the recipient of a brutal jab from the little boy’s bony elbow.

Jenny hedged just a moment before answering.

“Ye ken fine they’ll be here for Hogmany,” she replied, glancing toward her husband but not making eye contact with her son.

It was only moments later that Claire stood and, not at all discreetly, said she was “getting...something.” She paused awkwardly. “In the kitchen. I-I’ll be back in a mo.”

Jenny rolled her eyes and both men stifled laughs. They often teased Claire about her glass face, but when planning holiday surprises nearly everything she did was a dead giveaway that _something_ was up. Thankfully, toddlers and babies didn’t catch on to that sort of thing.

Jamie’s godfather stood at the back door, waiting to be let in.

“I dinna think this a _reasonable_ plan at all.”

The muttered comment came from Murtagh, clad in a garishly bright red suit with fluffy white trim on the hem and several seams. Though in good condition and clean, the suit had a distinct “old” smell as if it had been packed away for quite some time. It would be reasonable to assume that it _had_ been, since it was typically worn only at Christmas.

“Ye can take pictures of the barins wi’out this frivolity,” he continued. “They dinna need to tell Santa what you’ve already most likely gotten them. Wee Jamie is the only one who talks anyway.”

“Oh come now,” Claire chided, ignoring what she knew to be pretend grumpiness. Mostly. “Wee Jamie will be thrilled that Santa has come to visit and you know that Jenny has been wanting a picture of him and Kat for the holidays!”

She patted down a lump in the bright red hat and the wrinkles on Murtagh’s face deepened above bushy eyebrows.

Jenny stuck her head in. “Merry Christmas, Murtagh,” she whispered. “Now come on!”

“We needn’t go through wi’ this,” the man hedged. 

Jenny entered the room, arms crossed. “Aye, we needn’t,” she replied calmly. “But we will. Now come on _goistidh._ Humor me.”

Jamie, the grown one, popped his head into the increasingly-busy kitchen. “The lad may be young, but he isna simple. He kens something is going on in here. Come on!”

“Please, Murtagh? You need extra practice before next year,” Claire reminded him with an arched eyebrow. “A new Fraser and _another_ new Murray will be here by then and ‘Santa’ will have his hands full!”

Her hand slid to the small, but visible bump that was home for the next several months to the smallest Fraser. Jamie looked at her with eyes that sparkled just as they had when he was a child in awe of Christmas magic.

“Oh, aye. I’m going,” Murtagh mumbled, allowing a small smile to cross his visage. “But ye ken I dinna like it when the bairns are so small that their wee heads loll about.”

“ _Next year,_ ” hissed Jenny. “Tha’s no’ right now! Ye’ve got a year to deal wi’ that! Now come on!”

“Oi, wee Jamie! There’s someone in here ye ought to see!” the elder Jamie called out.

Footsteps bounded through the house as wee Jamie scampered in followed by Ian and Katherine at a slower pace. The tiny boy stopped abruptly, jaw slack, eyes wide.

“Santa Clause?”

“Ho, ho, ho!” Murtagh said in a sing-song voice, holding his rounded, puffy belly as he did so.

Wee Jamie continued to gape.

_This_ was Christmas. 

Christmas was shared joy and love. It was a husband at home, safe and thriving. Children growing and staring in wonder at all that was around them. A brother, not just returned home but returned to existence when all hope was lost. That same brother’s _family_ . A wife _and_ a child, and all their dreams coming true.

“Santa! I need to tell ye wha’ tae bring my sister!” 

Murtagh’s face softened to a smile as he sat down in a kitchen chair and the lad climbed up to join him.

It truly was a merry Christmas.


End file.
